Harry Potter and the Horcrux at Hogwarts
by bienert
Summary: Summer has arrived once again. What fate awaits the boy who lived?
1. The journey to Azkaban

Rufus Scrimgeour traipsed along the cobbled path of Hogsmeade village, which led directly to a vast castle of turrets and towers. It was a humid afternoon, with a hint of an approaching storm in the air. He glanced sideways, staring up at the boarded-up front windows of shops that lined the route.  
Apparently, the occupants of the formerly infamous village had fled ever since the mass hysteria at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry occurred.  
The only sounds around him were his footsteps, as well as the couhging of the frail-looking Ministry representatives that accompanied him from the Ministry of Magic.  
They approached a pair of enormous, wrought iron gates topped with winged boars.  
Rufus pulled out his wand and raised it into the air. Instantly, silvery fog erupted from the tip of his wand and materialized in mid-air. With a flap of its wings, the Patronus glided into the air and disappeared into the castle.  
Moments later, scurrying footsteps emerged from the castle. With a creak, the gates budged open and the head of a sallow-skinned, burgundy-haired woman popped out.  
"Ah, Minister"  
Rufus raised his eyebrow curiously.  
"You're the new caretaker?" he asked.  
The formidable-looking woman nodded vigorously and stepped back to let them in.  
"Indeed, Minister." she grunted.  
"But where is dear Argus?" said Rufus, taking a step inside and pocketing his wand.  
The caretaker brushed soot of her frayed dress robes and said, "I'm afriad to say Mr. Filch has resigned from his job, and so did the librarian"  
"Oh and by the way, you can call me Rubella. Rubella Blanche." she added imperiously.  
Rufus merely shrugged.  
Ten minutes later they were standing in front of another pair of wooden doors with a brass, Griffin knocker.  
Rubella pushed open the door and stuck her head inside.  
"Headmistress, the Minister has arrived." she muttered in an audible whisper.  
"Yes, please." said a reluctant voice from inside.  
Rufus proceeded into the office after ordering his representatives to stay outside.  
Rubella closed the office doors as soon as Rufus lowered himself on a seat across the desk where a frail-looking witch with her graying hair wrapped in a tight bun sat muttering to herself as she wrote down notes.  
"Gorgeous day, Minerva. Well - have you finalized a decision yet?" began Rufus.  
MInerva McGonagall's eyes roved around the office once and landed on the Minister's ones as though she only realized he was there.  
"The governors agreed to let me do the decision." she muttered stiffly.  
Rufus' eyes lit up. "And"  
"I have decided to let the school remain open." McGonagall told him sternly.  
Rufus looked taken aback. "And do you believe that students will return to this school after all that"  
McGonagall shot him a firm look and said in a calm voice that showed every sign of hatred, "The school will not close unless none of the students are loyal to Dumbledore anymore"  
Rufus let out a scornful laugh. "Dumbledore is dead." he murmured as though it was a practical joke. "However, Minerva, i must insist that you accept further protection and tighter security from the Ministry"  
McGonagall's nostrils flared. "I am not agreeing with the interfering of the Ministry, judging by the fact that some of them are total hypocrites"  
Rufus looked highly affronted. He shot up from his seat like a bullet, dusted dirt off his traveling cloak and glared at McGonagall.  
"Until we meet next time." he mumbled and left.

The serpentine house popped out from the deserted lot between Numbers eleven and thirteen in an instant.  
Harry Potter stood at the top of the front steps, facing the frayed front door coiled with snakes.  
He had refused to visit this very place before, and he was unaware of the reason why he was here at this very hour. Grimmauld Place showed every signs of the former occupant's neglect. The shutters were hanging loose, and so was the front door that was hanging from its hinges.  
He took a swig of Felix Felicis this very morning, and his instincts brought him to this very place.  
The glutinous, shimmering potion was now kept in a pile of old socks in his trunk at Privet Drive.  
He left this morning, with the Dursleys unaware of where he was headed to. None of them seemed to eager to utter a word at him, probably terrified by the fact that in a day's time, he was turning seventeen, officially capable of using magic outside school.  
He entered the house, wandered through the deserted corridor and inside one of the bedrooms.  
Without knowing what he was doing, his hand found a handle on one of the drawers and pulled.  
Inside was a crumpled piece of paper which he eagerly took and unfurled. Words on the note read:

Mundungus Fletcher has been here. With him is a locket that you might find interesting. The real Horcrux you need.

He crumpled the note in his hands, aware of the fact that the note contained the very answer to his first unsolved problem.  
He threw the note aside, bolted outside the house and stopped in a halt at the edge of the deserted street. He raised his wand into the air.  
With a screech, a violently purple, triple-decker bus appeared in front of the curb.  
His mind buzzing with questions, Harry entered the Knight Bus and lowered himself on one of the empty beds.  
The irritable-looking driver, Ernie Prang, sneered at him from the driver's seat.  
"Hi, Ernie." said Harry. "How's Stan"  
Ernie glared at him. "Still in Azkaban"  
"Well then, who's your new conductor?" said Harry curiously.  
A man from behind him stepped forward. He was a tall, musclely wizard in a furry, gray cloak. His face looked rather young but agitated. His hair was an attractive, golden brown.  
"I'm the temporary conductor, Jefferson Jarfies." he muttered and beamed broadly.  
Harry forced a grin and said, "Er...do you - by any chance - know where the nearest port is that will take me too Azkaban"  
Jefferson looked suspicious. "Why would you want to go there? It doesnt look like a perfect place for a young wizard"  
Harry swallowed. "I have to visit a friend"  
Jefferson eyed him closely and said, "The nearest Port is the Muggle port - Port Sheffield - the Knight Bus will take you there."  
Until the second chapter! Thanks a lot for reading this! 


	2. The real Horcrux

The Bus screeched to a stop. Jefferson clapped him hard on the shoulders as though he was a good friend.  
"Take care of yourself, Potter." he murmured. Harry shoved a couple of Sickles toward him, shrugged, and stepped down the Knight Bus.  
As the bus vanished out of sight, he glanced around him. He was standing at the entrance of a tiny port which was completely deserted. A pair of tiny yachts were tied to the paddock.  
A frail, cloaked man suddenly stepped up toward him.  
"You're a wizard, are yeh?" he asked disrespectfully.  
Harry nodded and said, "Yes, and i'm heading for Azkaban, sir. Which boat shall i use"  
The man sneered dissmissively and pointed towards one of the yachts. "Sheffield Port is now ran by wizards. Muggles who have once owned this place completely abandoned it, lucky for you, you'll have no trouble going there." he said.  
Harry thanked him and approached the yacht. Instantly, a wooden staircase magically revealed itself at the boat's entrance, which he reluctantly went across.  
Unlike the outside, the boat's deck was extremely messy and contained a foul-smelling odor of raw fish.  
Life vests were stacked on one corner: enormous, black rats were squeaking under wrecked benches.  
Suddenly, a loud explosion sounded from outside. His heart leaping a mile, Harry dashed back outside - and gasped in horror.  
The port was concealed in a blanket of flames, fireballs hovering here and there.  
Harry caught a glimpse of hooded black robes disappear out of sight near the port's entrance before the old man he conversed with a while ago came running into the boat.  
"Run upstairs, we have to leave!" he screamed hoarsely, disappearing up a spiraling staircase coated with slime.  
Moments later Harry felt a violent rumble from underneath - the yacht was about to leave. He poked his head out the window and watched as the boat simply drove away from the paddock, which had now burst into flames and crumpled into wrecked pieces of burnt wood.  
Harry followed the man upstairs to the captain's deck, a tiny cabin bearing the controls of the entire boat.  
"What happened?" said Harry breathlessly.  
The old man steered the boat feverishly but managed to answer.  
"Death Eaters arrived." he mumbled in a trembling voice.  
Harry's jaw dropped. The feeble image of the hooded robes entered his mind.  
"I saw them. But why did they have to set the port on fire?" Harry asked.  
"I'm pretty sure they want to burn down every possible way of transportation to Azkaban. I believe that the Death Eaters would want to use the prison as headquarters. You see, the Prisoner is way out to sea, at the very heart of its fiery depths. You cannot track it with simple magic, nor ride brooms to get there." answered the man, wiping sweat off his forehead.  
"Who are you?" he added rather impatiently.  
"Harry Potter, sir." The man's eyes widened. "Well, that explains it! They weren't just here to burn down the entire port... They were probably tracking you down too"  
... The journey through the wavy depths of the sea towards Azkaban was very unpredictable. Enormous waves kept forcing the ship to change direction, and the skies were showing every sign of an approaching storm.  
Hours later, Harry was awoken due to a sudden bump of the ship against what sounded like rock.  
He staggered upwards and dashed downstairs. The old man who before introduced himself as Dancel Donnikins was staring at something.  
Fog was obscuring his senses. A second later, the view cleared. The ship had, apparently, bumped into the shore of a tiny, deserted island. In the middle was an enormous, rocky formation with tiny turrets at the top that distinctly gleamed under the thick clouds.  
Harry stepped forward for a better look. If this was Azkaban, he now realized how horrible it was to reside there. The ancient, rocky formation was shaped like a castle, only smaller.  
It was surrounded by enormous rocks and sand. The walls were covered with ancient slime and the aroma of seawater splashing against it.  
It now looked as though the fortress was once a grand citadel, suddenly damaged by nature's catastrophes, and rebuilt very poorly.  
Harry jumped out of the yacht as his sneakers crunched on pebbles and sand.  
"Be careful - you dont know what resides around the fortress." Dancel muttered hoarsely.  
Harry nodded, his heart racing. If any of the Order of the Phoenix members find out he was here, they would be no doubt, very furious with him.  
He approached the looming prison, its rocky walls gleaming brighter than ever, dripping with muck.  
Suddenly, he was thrown backwards by an invisible force. He landed in a heap a few meters near the boat and groaned faintly. He managed to stagger upwards into a standing position, wondering what might come next.  
A silvery orb suddenly materialized in front of him. And in a fraction of a second, it sprouted arms and legs, a face, silvery hair and a silvery, pointed wand.  
The apparition was a woman with floor-length, translucent, silvery-white robes, a few meters of silvery hair, and abnormally long fingers that were clenched on the silvery wand.  
The apparition closely resembled a Veela, the ones that performed in the Quidditch World Cup season two years before. Harry stuttered, rooted in his spot.  
"A-are you a ghost?" he asked.  
The foggy, silvery apparition shook her head calmly, but her eyes were glistening like black coals.  
"Why do you trespass upon this land? Present the authorization of the Ministry." the apparition said in a misty voice like a nightingale singing very softly.  
Harry shook his head and said, "I dont have one, but i'm here on an important mission. Who are you"  
"We are the newly recruited guards of this prison," the apparition said. "We are fairies," she added.  
With a wave of her long fingers, Harry was surrounded by a cloud of silvery smoke. Suddenly, identical silvery-white women materialized around him, bearing identical, silvery wands that gleamed perfectly.  
"You cannot trespass the walls of these island without the Ministry's permittance." one of them said in a harsh, misty voice.  
"I came to ask questions for a prisoner named Mundungus Fletcher." said Harry nervously.  
The fairy looked surprised. "He is new here." she said in her mistiest voice.  
"I want to see him, please." Harry pleaded. "This is very important"  
The fairies exchanged troubled glances, and spoke in a misty, unusual language.  
"We will permit you for once, but never again after this. Welcome to Azkaban," the first fairy said, and pointed her silvery wand towards the steel entrance door leading into the fortress.  
In an instant, the door slammed open. "Thank you," Harry said, and without looking back, he proceeded inside.  
It was extremely hot inside. Not a window was visible. A thousand prison cells lined the first floor, as well as the upper floors. A steep, spiraling staircase made out of pure rock was constructed at the end of the first floor which gradually moved upwards like an escalator.  
The warden, an irritable-looking witch in very thin, maroon clothes guided him towards Mundungus's cell. Along the way, she muttered things like "Horrible, stupid place" and "Collywobbles"  
"Them new Azkaban guards must've given you a fright," she said as the winding staircase gradually went up.  
"Yeah," Harry murmured, suddenly feeling a slight urge of hatred. He was about to see the man who has stolen his possessions - Sirius's memorabilia.  
They went across the seventh floor, Harry being careful not to glance at any of the prisoners inside their cells. Finally at the end of the corridor, the warden pointed to a cell where the familiar figure of Mundungus Fletcher lay still, his face buried in his arms as he wept silently on the cold, stone floor.  
He looked up as soon as he heard Harry clear his throat aggressively.  
Mundungus' eyes bulged out of its sockets. For a moment, he looked as though he was about to burst into tears. "I'm so sorry, Harry... deeply sorry for what i've done." he said.  
Harry stood frozen, surveying the moaning prisoner behind the bars that enclosed him. His eyes landed on the man's neck, where a gleaming, golden locket was hidden, the tiny serpentine S scribbled on its front that represented Salazar Slytherin.  
"The only way in which you can forgive me is to give back that locket you stole from my Godfather." Harry said, not taking his eyes off the real Horcrux.  
Mundungus clutched the locket sharply. "This locket was very valuable. A tiny, hidden compartment was inside this very locket, where it concealed a miniature diamond that glistened forever. The Ministry inspected me the day before i was sent here. Rufus Scrimgeour and his Aurors took the diamond and left me to keep the locket. It was probably a very significant artifact for they were all speechless upon finding its contents." he explained briefly.  
Harry's jaw dropped, unable to register what Mundungus had mentioned.  
"You still have to give me that locket." he said firmly. Mundungus morosely reached into his cloak, pulled out the glistening, golden necklace and handed it to Harry.  
"I have to get that diamond as soon as i can," Harry said. "And when i do, you'll be out of here in no time." Mundungus' eyes lit up, and he grinned apologetically.  
"Thank you, Harry." he muttered.  
And gripping the Horcrux tightly in his hand, Harry sped down the staircase and back to the boat

+ Until the third chapter! 


End file.
